


A strand of silk

by QueenOfTacky



Series: Silky strands [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Auror Harry Potter, Dubious Consent, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Homeless Draco Malfoy, M/M, Mistaken Identity, Oneshot, Post-War, Sex Worker Draco Malfoy, harry potter oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 06:01:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24260086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfTacky/pseuds/QueenOfTacky
Summary: Two years after the war, Draco Malfoy is once again in the headlines. His parents, Narcissa and Lucius, were just sentenced to life in Azkaban, having spent all their gold on legal representation – to the point they had to sell their family home. And now, Draco is nowhere to be found. Everybody knows the 19-year-old has nothing to his name by now, but where did he go?
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Harry Potter/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Silky strands [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1759375
Comments: 8
Kudos: 52





	A strand of silk

Draco Malfoy was walking along Grosvenor Place. It was nearly midnight and he had no idea where to go. It was barely 12 hours later he was a part of one of the most powerful magical families in Britain – now, he was an outcast. His parents have just been sentenced to life in Azkaban for their involvement in the war, leaving him with nothing. He chuckled bitterly. Their supposed friends were so certain they were all getting out of the whole ordeal scot-free that all their collective gold was spent on legal representation during the trial. Hell, his own parents were so sure they were going to be declared innocent that they took out a loan against Draco’s childhood home, thinking they were going to pay it back once they were cleared of all charges and back on their feet. Now it was all gone. By now, Narcissa and Lucius were probably sitting in their cells in Azkaban and Draco was lost in Muggle London having fled all the press that followed him ever since the moment he stepped foot outside the Ministry of Magic. He knew he couldn’t go back. He was a homeless son of convicted Death Eaters with no money and no friends – even if he was willing to ask for help, he was well aware that there was nobody that would be ready to spare him even a scrap of their floor. No, he needed to stay on the Muggle side of the country. But where to go? How on Earth was he going to survive? He knew nothing about earning Muggle money, he had no education that would be useful whatsoever and on top of that, his sheltered upbringing left him with no contacts here. He was so desperate to get away, he had no plan in place. He sighed. There was no use dwelling on that right now, he needed to find a place to sleep. He looked around. It didn’t seem like there was anything other than lying down on a park bench he could do right now. The thought terrified him, but it wasn’t like he had any other option. He conjured himself a pillow and a blanket and braced himself for what he thought was going to be the most degrading night in his life. Oh, how wrong he was…

***

That same night, on the other side of the invisible boarder that ran through the Leaky Cauldron, Harry Potter was sitting in his office in the Ministry of Magic. He was reading through the Malfoy family file. He knew Lucius and Narcissa were sentenced to life in Azkaban, rightfully so, but ever since their son, Draco, was declared innocent, Harry was wondering what was going to happen to him. Everyone in the wizarding world knew the Malfoy’s blew their fortune on what was widely perceived as a suicide mission that was trying to dispute all the charges against them. That meant, Harry concluded, that Draco had nothing. Harry was turning page after page trying to find some sort of clue as to where his former arch-nemesis might be right now. Nobody has seen him since he left the Ministry right after his parents were sentenced and Harry had a gut feeling this didn’t mean any good. Bellatrix and her husband were dead, all their assets were seized, and Harry couldn’t imagine the only other family Draco had left – Tonks’ parents – would take him in. The only other place Draco might have gone was Grimmauld Place 12, since it was a Black family home, but it belonged to Harry, and there was no way anyone besides him, Ron and Hermione would be able to enter. He shook his head. Why was he stressing over this? It was not like he cared about Malfoy, after all they’ve been enemies ever since they met.

He groaned, resting his head on his desk. If he was prepared to be honest with himself, he would conclude that it was simply because anything was better than going back to his cold and empty apartment (he bought a small studio near the Waterloo East train station about a year prior). Ever since the war ended, he felt alone. Ron was happily married to a very pregnant Hermione, while he and Ginny had a falling out – the demons of war were too much for her to handle so they split and by now she was engaged to Dean Thomas and Harry was all alone. He tried to find someone, following Hermione’s advice, but every woman he met seemed to only be interested in being Mrs. Potter, not actually Harry’s wife. It was frustrating and discouraging, so a few months ago Harry turned to fulfilling his carnal desires with Muggle prostitutes – that way, he could be whoever he wanted to be, without the burden of being The Chosen One, and he didn’t even need to change his appearance that much – he only needed to conceal his scar, which was tricky at first, but with time he became quite proficient at it. Harry sighed and packed up his things. It was no use sitting there at his desk anymore. He knew he had a lot of work to do the following day, so he decided to apparate straight into his bedroom and go to sleep.

***

It was nearly 4 a.m. when Draco woke up. He was never so cold in his life. He sat up and rubbed his eyes desperately hoping that it has all been a bad dream and he was still in his bedroom at the Malfoy Manor. The realization that he was in fact sitting on a park bench somewhere in London (he wasn’t even sure where he was, he didn’t recognize any of the buildings nearby) hit him like a bag of bricks. He knew he needed to do something, anything, to find himself a more suitable place to stay – staying out in the open like he did was not safe. He didn’t know anything about Muggle culture, he wasn’t sure he would even be able to interact with the non-magical people without it being apparent that he had no idea what was going on around him. And that, in turn, meant that he was practically defenceless if anything was to happen to him. His stomach grumbled. He realized he hadn’t eaten since the previous morning, but it wasn’t like he had any Muggle money (or any money for that matter) to just go into a store and buy himself food. He looked around. Nearby, he spotted a man pulling a cart of freshly-baked bread. The smell was so delicious that Draco practically whimpered. He had to swallow his pride and do something, he couldn’t just sit there staring at the man, it wouldn’t accomplish anything. He braced himself, stood up, and approached the man.

\- Excuse me, sir… - oh God, how humiliating this was!

\- Yes?

\- Sir, I… - the words got stuck up in his throat. He was a Malfoy for God’s sake, Malfoys didn’t beg! – I was wondering if maybe I could exchange some labour for some bread. You see, I just came to London – it was safer to just pretend he came from somewhere else and that’s why he was sleeping on a park bench. After all, it wasn’t really that much of a lie, Muggle world was a very different place to where he used to live – and I haven’t got any money, but I really need some food.

\- Look, boy, I don’t know who do you take me for, but I’m not into – the man’s face twisted – your kind. I have a wife and I love her.

\- Oh, no, no, no! – Draco wasn’t even sure how he knew what the man meant, but he did – That’s not what I was talking about! I was thinking maybe I help you unload your cart or something.

\- Oh, I see. And you thing that 10 minutes of stacking shelves warrants a loaf of bread, boy? – The man laughed. – Look, I haven’t a clue where you come from, but here you work for what you eat. Tell you what, you sweep my store and clean the back room and I’ll think about it.

\- Of course, sir! No problem! – That went better than expected. He didn’t have to beg, he just had to put in some work, he could do that.

Draco spent the next hour sweeping and scrubbing any surface he could get his hands on. He briefly thought of just using a cleaning spell, but it seemed too risky with the Muggle baker just outside the door. He was just finishing wiping down the last shelf (weird how tormenting Filch back at Hogwarts turned out, he thought – if he didn’t spend so much time hovering over the caretaker’s head while he was working, he would’ve never figured out how to use all the supplies he’d been given) when the owner of the store appeared, accompanied by a short, thin girl, roughly around Draco’s age.

\- Well, well, well… I must say, I’m surprised. – The man smacked his lips. – You didn’t strike me as the type to be able to clean at all. I thought you were one of those twigs that get by using innocent men. But a deal is a deal. Get yourself a loaf of bread and a glass of milk. You can eat here but get out afterwards, I still don’t trust you enough to keep you here all day. – The man left, leaving Draco alone with the girl. There was a minute of silence before she spoke.

\- Don’t mind Henry, he’s had it rough. He doesn’t trust people easily, especially in London. I’m Mina, by the way. And you are…?

\- You know him well?

\- Yeah, I’ve known him since I was 14, he’s like a father figure to me. I come here every morning to hang out on my way back from work. Of course, Henry doesn’t know what I do, he’d throw me out if he knew. He thinks I’m a night receptionist at a hotel. You saw his attitude towards, well, our line of work.

\- What do you mean?

\- Oh, so you’re not a sex worker? Sorry, I just thought, since you’re here at the break of dawn you must’ve been up all night for some reason and you don’t strike me as a party type. Again, I’m sorry…

\- No, it’s ok. I would’ve assumed the same if I was in your place. – That was a lie, but Draco decided to pretend to not be offended. He was quickly learning that without the kindness of strangers he wasn’t going to survive. – It’s just that I, uh, came to London last night and I had no money and nowhere to go and Henry here was gracious enough to help.

\- Yeah, he’s like that. He’ll help you if you put the work in. You know, “teach a man to fish” kind of thing. – She smiled.

\- Sorry, teach a man to what? – Draco was visibly confused.

\- Oh my God, where do you even come from? – She was laughing. – You poor thing, have you been living under a rock?

\- Well, you could say that… - Draco didn’t want to have to invent a whole backstory for himself, but he realized he would have to. – I grew up in a very, uhm, sheltered community. I don’t really know much about Mu… modern London. – He hoped Mina wouldn’t notice his slip-up.

\- Oh, like a cult of sorts?

\- Yeah, kind of. We didn’t have modern technology or anything.

\- Oh my God, how are you going to survive here then? Do you have any friends who could help? Where did you even sleep last night? – Mina was visibly shocked.

\- I don’t know, I’ll have to figure something out. I don’t know anybody here, so last night I just slept on a park bench.

\- Baby, that’s no good, you can’t go on like that! You’ll get mugged or worse! Come with me, I’ll let you crash at my place until you find something for yourself. Like I said, I work nights, but it’s not from home so you won’t have to deal with that.

\- You… you would do that for me?

\- Of course! I’ve been pulled out from being homeless by people, so I’m trying to repay the debt. – She looked at him with a sort of affection you’d expect from someone looking at a lost puppy. Draco winced at being spoken to like that, but he decided it was better not to offend Mina.

***

Draco spent the next three weeks in Mina’s apartment. He tried desperately to find any sort of work, but it quickly became clear that he had no skills that would be useful in any Muggle job and those rare openings for physical labour seemed to instantly be filled by people much more suited for this type of work than he was. He suspected it was rather obvious that if the employers were to choose between a thin, rather androgynous 19 year old and a muscular ex-fisherman type, they would choose the latter. And so, Draco was quickly becoming desperate. He was now even thinner than when he came to London, having lived off of nothing but a loaf of Henry’s bread a day, since he was still too proud to let Mina feed him. One Friday afternoon he made up his mind and hesitantly knocked on Mina’s bedroom door.

\- Can I talk to you? – His heart was pounding, his throat was dry and his head was spinning, but he knew what he had to do.

\- Yeah, sure, come in. What’s going on?

\- I… - He couldn’t find the words. – I wanted to ask you about your work.

\- Oh… - Mina’s eyes widened. – Are… are you considering it? There might still be other options for you, you know?

\- There aren’t. And I can’t go on like this, I haven’t eaten anything besides bread for days now, I can’t do it any longer.

\- Oh, if you’re sure then… But I still think it’s not a good option for you. It’s rough out there you know? I’m lucky enough to have a place to work, but most girls are just out on street corners. You’re too soft to survive this.

\- I can take care of myself, trust me. I’ll be fine. I just need some pointers on how to get started.

\- Well, I don’t know much about the gay scene to be honest. But I suppose it isn’t that different from my work, so I can try. What do you want to know?

\- For starters, where do I even go? What do I wear? How do I act?

\- Slow down, let’s take this one by one. As for where you go, you have two options – you either find a spot on the street or knock on doors asking if they’ll take you in. They take a cut of what you earn, but it’s safer and usually you get better clients there.

\- Doors?

\- You know, parlours, call houses, whatever you want to call them. – Mina saw Draco’s confused expressions. – Brothels.

\- Oh, I see. So I just go there, say I want to start, and ask if they could give me a room?

\- More or less. Usually they would ask if you have a clientele you attract, you know, to see if you’ll be a good fit for their profile, but since you haven’t done this before it’s not an issue.

\- Is it bad that I haven’t?

\- Not necessarily. If they believe you, it’s actually an asset, because many men like what they call “fresh ones”, but it’s very common to just pretend you haven’t done it before, so the matrons ae weary of that kind of thing. You’ll have to be convincing.

\- And how do I do that?

\- Honestly, I don’t know. If I was talking to you and you acted like you’re acting right now, I’d believe you, but I can’t speak for other people.

\- Oh, I see. I suppose there isn’t much I can do besides just being myself. But how do I act with clients?

\- You need to be welcoming. Like nothing matters in the world besides their good time. You can set boundaries, refuse to do certain things if you’re not comfortable, but that limits your client scope, so you have to make the decision for yourself.

\- And what happens if I don’t want to do something but they don’t accept it?

\- Well, where I work there is a panic button and several bodyguards, but we’re a high-end establishment. If a client is misbehaving, he’s just thrown out and banned. But in those cheaper, lower-end ones, you just need to deal with that on your own.

\- That’s scary if I’m being honest…

\- I know. I told you, it’s rough out there. If it makes you feel any better, I think that with your looks you shouldn’t have a problem with finding yourself a spot in a high-end place. Looks are important, you know. You need to seem, well, luxurious, if you know what I mean.

\- I think I do, but how do I achieve that?

\- That I can’t help you with. If you were a girl I’d say the trick is to be sensual and seem like every client is your first client of the day. And your looks would be a plus, this ethereal type is very popular, so you could capitalise off that. But that’s from my perspective, like I said, I don’t know what sells in the gay scene.

\- Well, there is not much I can change about how I look – especially since I can’t just cast a glamour sitting here with you, Draco thought - so I suppose I’m going to have to work with what I’ve got.

\- I think so. Now, if you’ll excuse me I’m sorry, but I have to start getting ready for work. Don’t rush into things just yet, Draco, think it over before you start acting, ok?

\- Thank you Mina, you’re a godsent.

Draco returned to his room and collapsed on the bed. His thoughts were all over the place. He knew he didn’t have much of a choice if he didn’t want to starve to death, but the thought of Draco Malfoy, the heir of what was once one of the most powerful families in the wizarding community, selling himself just to get by, made him nauseous. He laid there, going over his options again and again, until he finally fell asleep. He didn’t even hear Mina shutting the front door behind her.

*** _Two months later_ ***

It was nearly Christmas and Harry Potter was once again spending his night behind his desk at his Auror office. Ever since he and Ginny split, Christmas was his least favourite time of the year. Of course, he was invited to spend it with the Weasleys at the Burrow, but he didn’t want to be around anybody right now, especially around happy couples like Ron and Hermione, Bill and Fleur, and, worst of all, Ginny and Dean. No, he’d much rather dedicate his evenings to cracking a new, rather difficult, case of a possible discovery of a cursed object in a former Death Eater’s home. But that proved to be more challenging that he anticipated – mostly because, Harry concluded after catching himself mentally drifting away from his paperwork for the third time that evening, all he could really think about was how sick he was of his life right now. He has long abandoned the quest to find himself a girl to settle with, but it didn’t mean he was ok with being alone – it was just simply the case of being sick of being viewed as The Chosen One instead of Harry Potter. He sighed and pushed his papers away. No, he won’t be able to get any work done tonight, he might as well go out, get drunk by himself in some Muggle bar and go find himself paid company for the night.

An hour later, he was walking alone, a couple shots of tequila in his system, when he decided to visit one of the places he used to frequent. He hasn’t been there in months, but tonight it felt like the place to be. He hailed a Muggle cab, gave the driver the address, and 10 minutes later he was greeted by the door by his favourite hostess.

\- Oh, Mr. Potter! We haven’t seen you in a while! Everything ok?

\- Yeah, thanks Jeanelle, just been busy. Is Normani around? – He asked for his favourite escort. If anyone would be able to lift his mood tonight, it was Normani.

\- I’m sorry Mr. Potter, but Normani went back home for Christmas already… - Jeanelle was sincerely sorry, it was all over her face. – But if you’d like, we have a new girl here, you haven’t met her yet. Her name is Yasmine and she just started here around two months ago. She’s very different to Normani, but I think you’ll like her. All her clients speak very highly of her.

\- Well, actually a change of pace might do me some good. Let me just use the restroom real quick and I’ll be right back.

\- Sure, no problem. I’ll go tell Yasmine to get ready. Meet me outside no. 20 in 10 minutes and I’ll introduce you two. – Jeanelle smiled and rushed off.

The inside of room 20 was dimly lit and very different to the rest of the parlour. Where other girls preferred to decorate their quarters in red or pink, Yasmine opted for a rich, moss green with silver accents. Both the matron and Jeanelle found it a little out of the ordinary, but the clients seemed to like it and it somehow weirdly suited the thin blonde. It made her look like a forest fairy or a nymph, Jeanelle thought, if forest fairies or nymphs were real.

Sharp knock on the door tore Draco out of his thoughts. It was three months since he started pretending to be a Muggle and for the last two of those he spent half his time as a woman, a sex worker no least. If his parents knew where their only son was right now, they’d disown him – if there was anything left to be disowned from, that is. Hell, if anyone in the wizarding community knew Draco became Yasmine, there would be a scandal like there never was before – not that it made any difference, Draco was not welcome back no matter what he did or did not do, even though he still kept that one last glimmer of hope for returning to his rightful home alive through all the shit that was his life right now. But nothing stop those incessant thoughts that plagued him every waking hour. He was reduced to a glorified toy, forced to do whatever men who came to see him wanted him to do, just to not end up on the street. The fact that he, and only he, knew all those supposedly heterosexual men were really spending their nights with a male was not much of a consolation. He had no feelings whatsoever towards his clients, neither good nor bad, so the knowledge that he was deceiving them made no difference to his state of mind. He grunted and tried to brace himself for what was inevitably going to be yet another night of being used in every way imaginable. Jeanelle entered and informed him that in a couple of minutes he was going to have a client and that he needed to be on his best behaviour, since it was a regular of Normani’s and tended to spent astonishing amounts of money any time he visited the parlour.

Draco sighed, got up, and took one last look in the mirror. After he talked to Mina two months ago he decided that if he really was going to do this, he was going to do this as a woman. That way he could not only say (to himself, obviously) that Draco Malfoy never did this, but also there was less of a chance anyone would recognize him. It took some time and practice, but he managed to perfect his female alter-ego: she was slightly taller than him, very thin and pale, with long silvery-blonde hair that reached her waist. Her face was not unlike Draco’s own, only her lips were fuller and she had heavy eyelids with long, black lashes. Her name was Yasmine.

Yasmine was on point tonight dressed in dark green lingerie (Slytherin green, Draco thought bitterly) and high heels, her long hair straightened and flowing down her back like liquid silver, makeup impeccable. The only thing that could potentially seem out of place was a long strip of emerald silk wrapped carefully around her left forearm, concealing what was the only link between her and Draco Malfoy. No amount of skill in self-transfiguration and glamour charms could hide the Dark Mark, the dark magic used to brand him was too strong, so Draco had to resort to Muggle means of disguise. At first he was scared his clients would want to know what’s under the fabric, but he soon learned that none of them really cared – Yasmine quickly learned how to distract them from it.

The door opened again, and Yasmine was just about to greet her guest in her most seductive voice, when the words got stuck in her throat. Leaning against the door frame, like nothing was wrong, was Harry bloody Potter.

\- You all right sweetheart? – He asked casually. Draco’s heart jumped up to his throat. He was desperately trying to not show how panicked he was.

\- Oh yes. Forgive me, I’m still pretty new here and I haven’t yet seen a man so handsome. – Distracting the clients with compliments usually worked, so that was Draco’s best bet. He was frantically scrambling for some plan of action, since it quickly became apparent that facing one of the most prominent figures of his long-gone, past life, meant he couldn’t fall back on his usual disassociation between himself and Yasmine. No, he was Draco Malfoy tonight, and Draco Malfoy was a woman.

\- Oh, you’re too kind baby. – Harry stepped into the room, closing the door behind him and wrapped his hands around Draco’s waist. – You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in a while, you know? If you’re as mesmerizing later on as you’re now, I might have just found myself my new favourite company around here…

\- I think we’d best not tell Normani that, handsome. – Draco forced a laugh. – From what I hear, she’s rather fond of you.

\- Well, we’ll see how tonight goes, beautiful. – Potter pulled Draco closer and ran his hands down his back. All Draco could think about was alarm bells going off in his brain. Through the panic he decided he needed to get this whole ordeal done as soon as possible. He leaned in for a kiss and unzipped Harry’s trousers.

\- So… - Draco desperately hoped he was coming off as seductive. – What do you have in mind?

***

Draco didn’t think it was even possible he could loathe himself any more than he already has. And yet, there he was, several hours later, back in his male body, in the shower of Mina’s apartment, scrubbing himself for the third time. Why did Harry fucking Potter have to come to see him of all the sex workers in London? Scratch that, he didn’t even classify himself as a ‘sex worker’ right now. He was a whore. It didn’t even help that tonight alone he made enough money to put down a deposit on a small studio apartment he’d been eyeing for the past week. If anything, it made it even worse. Right now, his only hope was that Normani would return and Potter would go back to his favourite girl and leave Draco be.

***

And yet, not even a week later, Potter was back in room 20, biting Draco’s nipples and fucking him senseless, while Draco was doing his best to imagine that he’s having sex with somebody, anybody else. He became quite good in faking pleasure and orgasms, so he usually wasn’t worried he would disappoint his clients, but with Potter it was different. Yasmine was a master in moaning encouragements - Draco wasn’t. And as soon as Potter came through the door, Yasmine was nowhere to be found and Draco had to face another night being Potter’s toy completely alone. He felt the man getting close to orgasm, so he decided it was time to put on his best show. Arching his back and holding his breath he entangled his hand in Potters hair and pulled him up, forcing him to look at Draco’s face.

\- Look what you do to me… - he moaned. – I… can’t… take… anymore… - Faking a scream, Draco threw his hands behind his head, clutching green curtains that were hanging from the ceiling and draping the headboard of his bed. Potter definitely liked what he saw, because the last few thrusts became much more forceful, almost violent. Draco felt his forearms hitting the headboard and drew out the remainder of the scream while Potter came inside him.

What Draco didn’t feel, however, was the thin strip of silk that was so carefully wrapped around his Dark Mark, snagging on one of the nails that kept the curtains in place, and coming undone, slipping down his arm. His hands were still behind his head, his Dark Mark on full display. Before he could react, Potter saw it.

\- What the fuck is that? – There was a mixture of fear and disgust all over his face. Draco had to act quickly.

\- That? Oh, it’s nothing, just my band logo. I’m a rock singer by day, you see. – He tried to smile, but it was way more effort than he could manage right now.

\- You’re lying. Don’t lie to me.

\- I swear, I’m not lying. Why would I be? Does this mean something? My friend brought the sketch one day and we all liked it, I don’t know where he got it from.

\- I said don’t lie. If you don’t tell me what’s going on by yourself, I can make you do that. – Potter was furious by now. – Oh, but I suppose you already know that, don’t you?

\- I don’t know what you’re talking about. Please, just stop this. – Draco was trying to shield his mind from Potter just like Bellatrix used to teach him to in his previous life, but it was too late. It felt like his head was being split in half and all of a sudden all the memories from Hogwarts started flowing right before his eyes.

\- MALFOY?! What the fuck?! – Harry bellowed. Draco suddenly felt a wave of cold brush over him. His glamour and self-transfiguration have been lifted.

\- I… I can explain… - there was nothing Draco could do besides cover himself up. His wand was shoved into the bottom of his locker downstairs, they weren’t allowed to bring personal belongings to their rooms.

\- No, you fucking can’t! Jesus, this is sick! You mean to tell me I’ve fucked you TWICE?!

\- I couldn’t tell you it’s me! You’d have me outed!

\- No I wouldn’t! If you told me from the start, I would’ve never touched you! I would’ve just left! What the fuck am I supposed to do now, huh?

\- I don’t know! You think it’s easy for me?! At least you didn’t know who I am! I had to lay here knowing who you are! Fuck, I all but bleached myself after last time!

\- Don’t you do that! You’re the revolting one here, don’t play the victim now! You knew who you’re having sex with and you didn’t say anything! YOU had a choice!

\- No I didn’t! I can’t just pick and choose who I sleep with, you know! You think if I had any choice I would be here? I have nothing, I had to run away, I’m not qualified for any Muggle job, this is the only way for me to have a roof over my head! – Draco couldn’t help it. It was the first time he was able to tell another living soul what happened to him. The tears started flowing and he didn’t even make an effort to stop them. – Do you have any idea how it is to be… THIS?! I’ve fallen further than you can even imagine! I would rather be in fucking Azkaban right now!

\- Oh, give me a break. – Harry snarled. He was too disturbed and disgusted to feel sorry for Malfoy right now. - You and your family brought this upon yourselves. I could tell everyone after what you’ve put me through! Imagine the headlines: “Disgraced Death Eater turns up as a Muggle whore!”.

\- You wouldn’t… - Draco was never this afraid in his whole life. Would Potter really out him? He tried to decipher the other man’s expression, but Harry only put his clothes on and shut the door behind him.

***

Draco was absolutely terrified. He didn’t even remember how on Earth he got back to Mina’s apartment and into the shower. If Potter decided to go to the Daily Prophet with his story, he wouldn’t even need any proof – he was The Chosen One, nobody dared to question what he said. And besides, the vultures at the Prophet weren’t exactly going out of their way to corroborate stories like that. And if it ever came out what Draco has become, it would be over. He might be reduced to selling himself for money, but the Malfoy name still had to be upheld, it was just how he was brought up. Even his parents walked out of the Ministry to be escorted to Azkaban with their heads held high. He couldn’t let it happen. He needed a plan however, and that he was in no shape to achieve right now.

It took him a few days just to compose himself enough to think about what he was going to do. He didn’t dare go back to the parlour in case the word got out already and other wizards would come to have their fun with him. He still had enough money put aside to somehow get by, so he wasn’t worried about it.

***

Harry spent his days battling the question what the bloody hell to do with Draco. As his shock and disgust cooled down, he realized Malfoy was in a rather pitiful situation and outing him right now wouldn’t be a good thing to do, but he still didn’t know if he should help him get out of Muggle London and back into the wizarding world. He was staring through his office window trying to decide what to do, when Ron’s voice brought him back to reality.

\- Harry, mate, are you listening?!

\- Oh, sorry Ron, I haven’t seen you there.

\- Harry, I’ve been here for fifteen minutes! What got you so wrapped up?

\- Nothing, work stuff.

\- We work TOGETHER. I know there is no case right now. Tell me what’s going on!

\- Well, ok… - Harry decided that a different perspective might help him. After all, Ron didn’t need to know the whole story. – Sit down, it’s a long one. You know how Malfoy disappeared after his parents’ trial?

\- Yes, I’m aware. But why are you thinking about Malfoy all of a sudden?

\- I’ve seen him. He’s in Muggle London and he’s not doing so good. He… - Harry hesitated. He didn’t know how to tell Ron exactly how bad was Malfoy’s situation without actually telling him what really happened. – he’s practically starving to death.

\- So?

\- So I’m wondering if it would be a good idea to pull him out of there. He won’t come back on his own, he has nothing here, so he needs someone to lend a hand.

\- Mate, are you serious? It’s Malfoy we’re talking about!

\- I know. But he has had it rough enough. It’s not like he’d be coming back to the life he had, that one’s long gone and nobody can do anything about it. But I was thinking, maybe if someone helped him out, he could rebuild himself, you know? Everyone deserves a second chance. I’m not talking about becoming friends with him all of a sudden, just giving him a place here and letting him get back on his feet on his own.

\- But… But what would people say? You helping Malfoy? That won’t look good, you know it!

\- Honestly, I don’t care what people think. Plus, I doubt I’ll become public enemy anyway, I’ve done enough good for the community to cut me some slack.

\- Maybe you’re right… How bad is he?

\- Worse than you think.

\- So…?

\- I can’t tell you, I’m sorry. But I wouldn’t wish it upon anybody to be in his position right now.

\- Well, if you put it like that, maybe we ought to help. Regardless of what he’s done, he’s one of us and we had it bad enough already.

***

It took Draco a few days to come up with a plan on how to find out if he’s been outed by Potter. One Monday morning he waited for Mina to go to sleep and reached for his wand. He became quite good at self-transfiguration, and even if his best work was out of the question, he could still make himself look different enough for the people in Diagon Alley to not recognize him. He gave himself some muscles, facial hair and long, black ponytail and made his way to the Leaky Cauldron.

The moment he stepped foot in Diagon Alley he started looking for any stray copy of the Daily Prophet he could snag, figuring that if he’s been outed it would be all over the front page. He had no luck however, the Diagon Alley seemed unusually clean. He sighed and decided to go back, he’ll need to try his luck elsewhere.

He has almost reached the exit when he overheard his name being mentioned in a conversation between two elderly witches standing nearby. He didn’t want to insert himself into the conversation, so he just pretended to look at a shop display next to him and listened carefully. “Yes, yes, Draco Malfoy… The Death Eaters’ son, yes… Somewhere in Muggle London, they say Harry Potter has found him… Apparently he’s really not doing good… Very, very bad in fact…”.

Draco’s heart stopped. So Potter really told everyone how Draco was getting by on his exile. His mouth became dry and his vision got blurry. He ran out of Diagon Alley. He was never coming back, the last remnants of hope he kept alive deep down died. There was truly no place for him in the wizarding world anymore.

***

A week after his conversation with Ron, Harry decided he needed to talk to Draco and offer him help. He came to a conclusion that the best course of action was to give Draco keys to Grimmauld Place, since it wasn’t being used anyway, and a small position in the Auror office – he needed an assistant anyway, and if Draco was willing to come back and reinvent himself, his perspective might be useful.

Harry made his way to the parlour where he thought Draco might be. Upon arriving, he asked Jeanelle if Yasmine was working. To his surprise, Jeanelle looked at him sadly and handed him a sealed envelope without a word.

***

It was two hours later when Ron entered Harry’s office only to find his best friend crying, clutching a piece of paper. Without a word, Harry handed him the note. There was only one sentence on the card: “I decided to go for good. D.L.M.”. The world slowed down. Like through a thick, concrete wall, Ron heard Harry say “Malfoy is dead. And it’s my fault”.

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo... What does "to go for good" mean in this instance? Is Draco dead or did Harry get it wrong?
> 
> Let me know what you think!
> 
> PS. Depending on how much time I have there might or might not be a sequel to this. :D


End file.
